Was ever a fairer meadow than the open fields of Australia befouled and betrayed by such cross-bred swine like these beasts of gross repute as the conservative politicians? Was ever sweeter grass and clearer stream more befouled by the clumsy stampeding hoof of such swine? Was ever more damage done to field and stream by their sleek, fattened flesh crashing through hedge and shrub, trampling down spider orchid and clover, their huffing snouts nuzzling greedily into the good, rich earth seeking truffle-like under turf and flowers the riches to gorge their insatiable appetite of greed and avarice till the very ground beneath our feet is turned into a blackened swill of slurry and excrement by their loathsome waste and drooling, each successive discovery of further wealth of fattening reward a spurring-on for their fellows to dig more deeply, sniff out more urgently and crush more completely the very soil they rely upon for their sustainability? Such is the nature of The LNP way of politics.
And the IPA “shepherds” of this porcine herd?..what are they but amateur game-keepers placed in charge of an unruly flock with little or no experience of just how to direct ANY stock under their control, the “crook” no longer a descriptive word for a hooked staff to assist his work, but rather a title and accusation of philosophical direction!..Shepherds of such junior experience that their words more resemble childish verse from school-yard fairy-tale and nursery rhyme than studied application or learned experience. Their “learned oracles” a coterie of fools and wannabe philosophers from an age of too many snake-oil salesmen, too many lesser intellectuals scrambling for to feast off the post Victorian era table of speculative philosophy, their scribblings little more than vague wishings for either fantasy or the impossible…seeking to go down a “road less traveled”, believing there lies a Leprechaun’s treasure waiting for their coming…The Hayeks, the Friedmans, the Rands..the post war post-modernists who embraced a fraudulent will-o-the-wisp and played host to its vapour-like fantasy pretending that it was of their own design..an empty vessel carping and crowing with empty promises..for there are reasons why some roads are less traveled, and that is because they mostly lead to a dead end….such an end of “free market” speculation we have now reached, the economic rationalism of poverty…so that those child-like eyes must sometime be adult-opened and the realisation that while their IPA. skin may have a white-washed, well combed appearance, it hides a soul and heart as dark, dirty, corrupt and vile as the most hardened villain in any Joseph Conrad novel.
The crack of the whip falls regularly on the backs of these stumbling shepherds, as their absentee landlord and overseer of the herds and pastures directs his hirelings to apply his commands from his base in another country. Just like a Cromwellian baron on his Irish estates, does this malfeasance, more hungry for young-woman flesh than the most theatrical Dracula, holler his orders from an ivory tower of protected privilege and prestige above both his station and his low moral base. The foundations of which reach down to the depths of Sheol and by-pass the lowest level of Dante’s inferno. His aged body a disease of corruption swelling over any girdle or belt of containment until it’s unbridled wash hangs tripe-like from unclean cloth like the spilled intestines of an old, gutted animal. This apology of a human controls and directs his creatures with a grip as firm and as loathsome as a loan-shark’s, and with almost as much integrity.. They do his bidding with too willing pleasure just to see those they torment writhe in agony and terror…one can almost see their eyes light-up with un-supressed glee when a struck blow hits home and their victim falls innocent at their feet..There can be nothing lower in ethics or morality than those who are more willing to enact a master’s cruelty for the reward of a few shillings than to think of their own…none more deserving of hard justice than those more willing to cut cruel on the backs of their own people to satisfy the lust for power of a foreign master…Well could the Irish claim that amongst one’s own people, a traitor is the easiest of person to find…for even amongst the twelve Apostles, was there not within their own breast the worst of the worst?..So heed not when the time comes for a sympathetic eulogy for that foreign media mogul whose only record in history will be as a villain..as a eulogy; weep not for him , but rather for those he broke and debased and destroyed…Call no lament, except to those who were too weak-hearted in their positions of power to drag him down before he destroyed the nation..and pray no prayers but for those who died as victims of his and his creatures propagandised wars, famines, diseases and poverty..Murdoch is a name most unworthy of even faint remembrance.
Was ever a fairer meadow or field than Australia torn asunder by insatiable greed and cruelty?
“So we must fly a rebel flag,
As others did before us,
And we must sing a rebel song
And join in rebel chorus.
We’ll make the tyrants feel the sting
O’ those that they would throttle;
They needn’t say the fault is ours,
If blood should stain the wattle.”
(Freedom on the Wallaby.. sec’)
Brisbane, May, 1891.